


The small ineffable plan

by Doublematch



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Mutual Pining, Self-Sacrifice, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Suicide toughts, Trigger warning on chapter 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-04-11 15:32:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 11,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19112581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doublematch/pseuds/Doublematch
Summary: Soulmarks are something for humans. Not for angels, and certainly not for demons.At least, not for all of them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fiction ever, so please be kind. Constructive criticism is appreciated. English is not my first language, please point any error.  
> UNBETAED for lack of beta :(

If you should listen to humans, Soulmarks have been around forever. But if you could ask a certain demon, he would tell you otherwise.  
Adam and Eve certainly didn't had one. Nor Noah and his family, for all it matters.  
Soulmarks weren't a blessing: they were a punishment.  
For the day after the fall of Babel's tower, everyone found a Soulmark on his body. Every single human being was marked for the one and only who could complete his soul. And they cannot communicate with them. 

Crowley counted himself fortunate, since the longing for the mythological other half was not a problem of his concern.  
Until.  
Until a day in Rome, after spending the night sharing oysters with that angel.  
Upon waking up, he found a strange image on his left hip. First, he tried to miracled it away, but the forsaken thing didn't as much as pale. Then, he changed to snake and back. Not a change.  
So, the only explanation was a Soulmark. On a demon.  
A blue and argent book open on his spine as if he was flying, surrounded by sapphire sparks who glistened under the light.  
By the second decade with it, the novelty of the discovery vane.  
Crowley found it to be a nuisance and a liability. No other demon carried a mark, and no demon was supposed to.  
He never bothered thinking about his supposed other half. For many centuries, he regarded it as a bad joke. C'mon, a celestial being life can't be compared with the humans one, so knowing who was the unlucky one for him wasn't important at all.  
But it wasn't a human.  
Something clicked when he did go to France to tease Aziraphale. It was him all along, with his stupid bookshop. Couldn't let him be discorporated after that.


	2. On Soulmarks: a second opinion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UNBETAED

Soulmarks were a beautiful gift of hope and the promise of love.  
Aziraphale felt so relived when, in the aftermath of Babel, they appeared. The Almighty shared the knowledge that love is all you need to comprehend each other.  
Obviously he didn't had one. Angels were beings of pure love, and their devotion was not to be shared.  
He often mused about a Soulmark, something that he could watch when God ineffable plan was too hard to follow. Just to feel safe in the certainty of it all. A nice and elegant sigil, maybe. But Soulmarks were not meant for angels.  
So, when his Soulmark manifested in Rome, he was positively flabbergasted.  
He didn't noticed right away, since it was behind his right shoulder, but a flash of color catch his eye. Some strange black chariot, engulfed in flames, with golden sparkles around.  
For Aziraphale, the world stopped. The doubt of being fallen crawled into him. How could he have a mark?  
Slowly, he manifested his wings. They were still white, but how could he be certain? Draping his toga to mask the offending view, he resolved to go see his superiors. It was almost time for a report, anyway.  
By the time he reached the entrance, the fear of not being able to enter had grow to majestic proportions. What if he was really fallen? What to do if he was not? With a cautious step, he did go past, where Gabriel was already expecting him.  
"Aziraphale, for one you are early for the report. Any good news on Earth?"  
So, not fallen. Not "Aziraphale, I see you are not a good angel. Goodbye." and subsequent smiting. Relieved, he reported, but Gabriel stopped him while he was leaving. "By the way, where is your sword? You should keep it near, for all eventualities." The sword again. Aziraphale wrestled out of the situation managing no lies (as natural) and no paperwork (that was almost a miracle).  
It took ages for him to understand the subject of his mark. But, once understood it, it became clear who was supposed to be the recipient of all his love.  
Crowley was boistering with pride for the novelty he acquired. A car.  
And the angel understood how feels being smitten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who read and a big hug to the ones who left kudos. 💜


	3. Love through the ages

Since France, Crowley found difficult to stay away from his angel.  
Yes, he seldom did so anyway, but was just chance at first, and their Arrangement later. And maybe was something else all along.  
The demon knew it was not reciprocated, and he will never be; he had been made archangel, after all, and sometimes he could still remember how it was. Feeling always the burning of love.  
But just start asking questions or poke around a bit, and all the love is stripped away, leaving you burning with emptiness instead.  
That mark, Crowley decided, was an additional punishment, a special one for the last to fall. Who, as it seem, was destined to fall again.  
Aziraphale was on a such different level than him, that they were never supposed to meet. Just the thought of it made him sick.  
After the discovery, he couldn't tempt human on a personal basis. Every time he tried, Aziraphale's sad face crossed his mind. That look would hurt him more than anything in the whole Creation. More than felling did, more than holy water could. Even if that water could destroy his demonic soul, Crowley mused, the tough of the angel would somehow survive and protect him for all eternity.  
Before, he had a knack for big works. So, he entered the business of mass temptation. A small action, and thousands of humans will follow. He became very good at it, even if his work was seldom understood by other demons. Who cares, since the big guys loved the big numbers. The soul of a maybe Saint in a century, against all the others. Why risking Aziraphale's discontent?  
Sure, he would never be given high honours. And they would never feel blessed again, for on the timid smile that Aziraphale bestow upon him when he gave the humans a chance to be free of temptation he could count many divine blessing rolled in one.  
So, when he acquired the Bentley, it was only natural to drive to the shop and show her to the most important being in the Universe.  
Crowley was so excited by the novelty, that missed Aziraphale's surprised look.


	4. Intermission - Before the time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a look at the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head canon, Crowley was archangel and he really did help with the stars. Was buddy with Michael and Gabriel. He was also the last one to fall (hance the different aspect from the others), and missed the battle between demons and angels. I see the "scars" on both of them (the scale ones and the golden ones) as wounds from that battle.

He wanted to go back to his work. That nebula could use some more dust. But Gabriel and Michael were adamant: they will fight in the war.  
"What war?"  
He didn't really follow all the chatter, absorbed as he was in his, excuse the pride, his masterpiece. Turned out a cherub and some others started questioning the rightfulness of the Plan. They've seen Adam and Eve gifted with free will, and wanted the same.  
"What for?"  
Just for the sake of it. There weren't much choices to be made, at the time.  
"Why is that bad?"  
"Who cares, we have a war to fight!"  
Gabriel seemed ecstatic at the idea. He did get it:war was something new and different. But he had doubts still.  
"What's so fun in it?"  
His wings started to pale, the blinding white losing his radiance. And he felt heavy.  
"It's the Plan!", both his companions responded.  
"Doesn't seem a well planned one. Why She should arrange for them to became... How do you called it... demons, and not creating them right away?"  
The Universe became dark, and he felt pain and despair. All of him burned and at the same time felt cold. He didn't know how much time passed feeling only that icy torment, but he finally woke.  
Still full of questions no one could answer any more.  
Feeling rage, pain and loneliness.  
Looking at him was Satan himself, grinning and greeting him.  
"Welcome, fellow demon. You are to be named... Crawly. Sadly, you came along pretty late and missed the fun part. Sure, we lost, but we will have our revenge. In the meantime, go up there and do some trouble."  
The memory of the demon Crawly was fuzzy, all he could remember was his nebula, the feeling of the love he lost and ton of questions.


	5. Love through the distance

The angel was completely at loss for words.  
His mark, his special mission from God, told him to love a demon. Someone who surely won't love him. Someone he couldn't bare to lose.  
"C'mon, angel. Let's go for a ride."  
Oh no no no no. He needed time.  
"I don't trust that machine, Crowley. And I don't feel well."  
With those words Aziraphale all but run into the shop and turned the sing to "closed".  
A demon. His demon, who spend time with him drinking while he enjoyed his dessert. His best friend, who made Hamlet a success.  
He made some cocoa, and added maybe too much rum.  
If his superiors weren't to discover the Soulmark before, now it would be priority for it to be hidden. From anyone.  
What would the opposition do to Crowley, if it was known he was not only fraternizing with an angel, he was loved by one?  
The only thing that didn't bother him was sharing his love for God with someone else. If She had given him a mark, then it was all part of Her ineffable plan. He was sure of it, even if Gabriel could see it as an abomination.  
But Crowley?  
Aziraphale basked in his love for the Allmighty, sure that She loved him back. And Crowley made clear that he didn't even like him, not so long ago.  
He sat, drinking his cocoa flavoured rum, and let his thoughts wander to all the time spent with the demon. How was he outraged at the kids dying in the Deluge and in Egypt. How was he always there for him. How relived himself felt upon hearing his voice in the Bastille. Not giving him that holy water has been the right thing to do. What if he had used it?  
Slowly the angel understood. He did loved the demon, he has loved him a long time. But now, he will have to keep his distance. For Crowley's sake.  
That wretched Soulmark was likely a punishment for giving away the sword.  
He did found his match, he had know him for all the time on Earth. And now, an angel had to learn how not tell the truth.  
Someone could object that he already knew how to do, with his Arrangement and such. But he never told an outright lie.  
And it would take a lot not to tell Crowley how much he wanted to stay with him, to continue to pretend he wasn't fond of the demon.  
So, he made scarce for the next years. Seeing Crowley seemed impossible, his heart racing just at the thought of it.  
And then, the church happened. After years of Aziraphale evading encounters, Crowley appeared in a church, of all the places. To save him the inconvenience of being discorporated. With all that holy water and blessed paraphernalia all around, he took particular attention on shielding the demon. Forgetting his books until he saw his other half safe. Of course so were the books.  
When Crowley gave the bag to Aziraphale, the angel needed all his strength not to reach out and old unto him.


	6. Burning with desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING  
> Possible trigger for suicide thoughts.  
> Mention of masturbation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ty to all readers, subscribers, bookmarkers. A special hug to everyone who left kudos, and another one bonus to the commenters. Your internet candy is making me glee like Aziraphale.

When Aziraphale retracted into the shop and disappeared, it took Crowley some some moments to realize it.  
He felt rejected, alone and furious.  
He did go for a ride but his joy was gone.  
In the subsequent years, meeting with Aziraphale was next to impossible, and he grow restless.  
Luckily he didn't had access to holy water because many nights he felt so much despair it would be a too big temptation. He never thought about it before, but his loneliness made him aching.  
Crowley resolved to put all his energies in his work. And look where it take us. Just say that maybe the little screaming men is not wrong, and humans make a war out of it.  
He kept his ears open, just to look after the angel.  
Obviously Aziraphale put himself into trouble.  
It took all the courage and the love of the demon to enter the church. The ground was burning like hot iron, and it was really hard to keep the cool facade while his feet were positively burning. He even gave the silly humans the choice to save themselves. And he managed to see his angel again. The risk of being destroyed by that baptismal font was nothing in comparison. Aziraphale's miracle protected them both from the the debris and the water. As a bonus, he made such a cute face while taking the bag with his books. The warmth from the brushing fingers in the exchange was too much. Crowley had to run away from there, else he would have spilled his secret.  
He run to his home, and only when inside he stopped to think.  
The demon always had something special between his kind, even the angelic ones: a fervid imagination. The angel's expression was to be saved with thousands others, to be treasured and cherished. Another thing he had was a fully functional human form. It wouldn't do to be discovered just from some bit missing. Those extra bits were driving him mad.  
He did go into the bedroom and throw himself on the bed. All the memories he loved most of Aziraphale came to keep him company while he started caressing himself. All those nice sounds of contempt he made while eating sweets. Crowley wondered what could he do to replicate them. Maybe some nibble to the ear or under the jaw, or a firm bite on the collarbone.  
With those thoughts his grip became firmer. Yes, hearing Aziraphale call his name like in France while pleading for release. Better still, while the demon was pinned under him, letting the angel take whatever he wanted. And then...  
With a sudden cry, Crowley spent himself. While drifting off to sleep, the new piece of his collection kept him company, driving off nightmares.  
Upon waking up, only one thought was fixed in his mind. He needed that holy water more than ever. If all did go pear shaped, he couldn't let his fellow demons discover the mark and go after Aziraphale. He would gladly obliterate himself, with the memory of the angel as last thing in his mind, keeping his soulmate safe.  
Luckily, he now knew that holy water wasn't so hard to come by. Someone could just walk into a church and grab some. Not that he could be that someone. He will have to use some humans.


	7. Freezing with loneliness

Going back to the shop, Aziraphale got lost on his fantasies.  
Cradling his books close, having somehow forgotten how to use a handle, the angel walked between the debris of the bombardment, oblivious to all but the sweet burning inside him.  
Crowley risked all that, for him. He felt glowing with happiness, and maybe he was indeed a bit too bright. Nobody saw him, and that was just luck.

When he retired in his chambers, after taking good care of the tomes, he sat in the armchair. Even if he did own a bed, it was seldom used.  
The Principality didn't need the sleep, and wont indulge on it. Maybe he gave away the sword, but he still felt a guardian.  
That night he didn't use his vigil to read, as was his habit. Instead, Aziraphale let his thoughts roam around.  
What will have happened , if he had just followed his instinct and hug the demon? Imagination was not something he used. He preferred his life to be a nice and ordinate routine. It was Crowley the one with new ideas.  
Crowley... Just thinking about his soulmate made him tremble.  
Closing the eyes, he fathomed the demon lying on the bed in front of him. He fantasized about spending the night watching him sleep, hair untamed and a blissful smile on the lips. Aziraphale didn't have a gate to guard any more. All he had to protect was Crowely.  
At this thought, the nice and cosy warmth became an icy feeling.  
Crowley would never sleep under his gaze: to keep him safe, he needed distance.  
Was this the cold left inside the fallen? Oh dear, no wonder they liked fire so much.  
Contrary to what some could think, Aziraphale wasn't completely naïve. He himself had a fully functional and well kept human vessel, had read a lot of novels and he did frequent gentlemen's clubs. Maybe he could find some way to keep his mate warm.  
The unpleasant feeling grew, and tears started to roll on his cheeks. Who was he trying to joke? He will never be complete, Crowley couldn't be his. Aziraphale could never reach for him, nor he would know the feeling of carding through that red hair, or the softness of his skin.  
His role was to guard him, not to keep him, not to have him.  
After all this time, the snake became the apple. It would be so easy to just reach and take. Even for one time only. Even in his wildest dreams he couldn't do that.  
Please, this is hurting so much.  
The angel knew he wasn't fallen , could still feel the divine love, somewhere inside. But the need for his demon made him weep, quiet sobs leaving his lips.  
How could he protect Crowley?  
Being distant didn't work. It took a real miracle, or maybe two, to protect him from the holy water. And the demon was so near to it just to save Aziraphale's corporeal form. He needed to be vigilant about his activities. How did he miss that Anthony J addiction?  
So, the angel started to check on Crowley's doings , keeping his ear to the ground, as they say. And maybe he didn't stop to nibble so frequently as his usual.  
In the 60's the demon was restless. He even started a criminal circle to rob a church.  
His true purpose was clear to Aziraphale. What shall he do now?  
His morality was shattered. If he was found by any side meddling with holy water, it would be a risk too high. If he did gave it to him, it felt like giving his blessing to the use.  
Paining the angel made his choice.  
While closing the thermos with the water smuggled from Heaven, Aziraphale felt hollow. Whispering all his blessings, he carefully dried the exterior. And the he checked again , and again , and again that the container was safe for his friend to hold. With death in his heart, he miracled himself into the Bentley.  
Seeing Crowley did nothing to ease his distress. He couldn't stop his voice from trembling, and gave the blasted thing to the demon with shaking hands.  
“Should I say thank...”  
No, better not. Aziraphale almost cried, enunciating all small things they could do together, willing Crowley to understand how much he would like to spend eternity with him.  
“Please stay with me” was left unsaid. The angel knew it could never be .  
As usual, the demon was fast to catch on his desires.  
“I'll give you a lift, anywhere you want to go. “  
“You go to fast for me, Crowley”.  
Aziraphale silently left the car, taking his loneliness with him.


	8. Intermission: Playing the long game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for following my work.  
> The chapters lenght is a bit of an issue, so be prepared for some short ones.

God doesn't play dice with the Universe, and Her game is not rigged. You lot just don't understand the rules, because they are written in many manuals of which only a single copy exists. And She keep switching them. Yes, dice are involved, as are cards and a lot of notes, for all it matters.  
She did disclose some guidelines at the beginning of the game, like “Do as you're told” ,”Don't eat that fruit” and “Don't go around questioning everything”. Ok , maybe the last one is not so easy to follow, so if you are a human player you can ignore it.  
She keeps tabs on how the game is progressing, ans has a fairly idea on how it will end. 

But for now, the Almighty feel something akin to frustration.

She decided to reveal another regulation to all players, using Her almost all actions on that turn to deliver the message.  
“Be kind to each other.”  
They managed to ruin even that. How hard can it be to follow some simple directions? If only She hadn't ruled out of the books “extermination” a while ago...  
All the celestial being, angels or demons, where so engrossed on their respective narrative that they didn't realize the message was meant for them too.  
Well, She pondered shuffling Her notes, She did left everyone enough memo, and all She could do now was a small action. What to do? So many possibilities, and after that She will have to wait ( roll of dice ) 2000 Earth years, give or take, to do ( another roll ) a small action again. Not bad, considering that past turns She had quite a lot of good throws, but if re-rolling wouldn't be against the rules She would have done it.  
That leave the humans out, since Her next action would be too far in time for them.  
It was then that She spotted something interesting.  
Aziraphale and (rapid research through notes, finding one with many names crossed out) Crowley, dining with oysters. What a nice opportunity to develop.  
“Let's see if they understand it, this time .”  
And so, the two Soulmarks appeared.  
“This turn will be fun to watch, but first a need a bit of relax.”  
She put on Her Metatron voice mail, and left to take a well earned warm bath.


	9. Crying with despair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to all. I'm devouring so many beautyful works on this fandom, I'm sorry if some thematic will be similar. :(

Finding Aziraphale in the Bentley startled Crowley.  
The angel had a worried look, and seemed thinner. He felt the impulse to miracle both of them in Paris and offer him all the crepes in the city. Resisting his urges, he concentrated on his friend's words.  
Crowley was genuinely surprised by the gift, and, when Aziraphale started rambling about what they could do, almost kissed him to lift that frown. The demon needed to spend more time with his soulmate, but he was left alone.  
Holding the breathe, he took the precious thermos to a more secure place. The first gift ever he received. His potential demise. Given willingly against all moral restrains.  
Crowley already loved his angel, but now he felt so much love inside he could combust on the spot.  
What to do with those feelings?  
Keeping away from his soulmate was impossible, stay near a torment and holding him forever just the wildest fantasy.  
So, he dived into work again. The humans inventions made easy to grind numbers, and Crowley was on top of his game. This take us to the decision from the big guys to have him deliver the Antichrist.  
The end of the world. He was so stunned is not a surprise he didn't check where the baby did go.  
No more human forms.  
No more spending time with Aziraphale.  
A war for the demon to win, slashing through every single angelic being.  
It dawned on him: he wouldn't be able to save his angel. Imagination was a big problem, sometimes. He could see Hastur laughing and burning his mate with hellfire, while the angel didn't have anything to protect himself. Aziraphale was a soul too kind to fight. Or maybe he will go searching for the demon in battle, to be the one to smite him. Or, and this possibility make him tremble, he could fight near his friend, shielding him as Aziraphale did on the walls of Eden. But he knew that, even if he could slow his brethren down, it wont be enough.  
The fallen angel started crying for the first time on Earth.  
Much like the first thunderstorm, fat drops fell to the ground.  
This work was too big for him. He need help. He needed to check on Aziraphale at all times.  
He called his angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone care to guess what's with the book on Crowley's Soulmark? It's so obvius it's embarassing.


	10. Rising with resolve

The sushi, after Gabriel visit, had lost his appeal.  
The war to end all wars.  
The angels prevailing on all demons.  
He will have to fight Crowley.

Aziraphale felt his faith tremble.  
It was Her plan, and nothing could change it. He was an angel, and he will have to fight. Maybe She would let him die, killed by his personal demon. Seeing him as last thing, towering over his body.  
Please, let it be quick. Please, let it be him.  
Absent minded, the angel caressed his Soulmark. He should try and tell him. Maybe that would be cause for him to fall; that way, he could die shielding his love. Or maybe the demon will laugh at him and strike him down, stripped of everything he had hold dear.  
He felt silly, surely a creature like Crowley, with his entrancing vessel and his high standars, would never love nor lust the like of him.

When his friend, for at least it was still that, called, he knew everything would be too fast for his liking.

But the demon had a point. What if was not God plan at all? Thwarting the Apocalypse together, raising the Antichrist to be just a boy.  
That would meant spending time near Crowley.  
Oh, thank you for this small mercy.

His mind was made up. He will try and stop all this nonsense, while keeping the demon as out of it as he could, and enjoining the last moments of company, if everything else failed, before being destroyed by his love.


	11. Losing the reason

Being a nanny was boring.  
Being a nanny robbed him of time with Aziraphale.

Crowley was so restless that he couldn't think straight. He was being so cautious raising Warlock, sure that someone was watching every move he made. He would not risk to be seen fraternizing with his angel.

Being a nanny was fantastic.  
Being a nanny gifted him so many little pieces for his favourite collection.

Aziraphale was not so well disguised as a gardener, and so Crowley had to meet him from time to time. Truth is, mostly he spied on him from behind the windows.  
Watching him fumbling around talking to the plants and all those other critters. Miracling away spots from the leaves, even, always with that kind smile of his.  
Oh sweet angel, those plants will never respect you. Please talk like that to me. Only to me.  
Crowley released a breath he shouldn't be holding.  
It was better this way. He could keep Aziraphale out of trouble and stole some glimpses at the same moment.

As expected, changing his vessel to be a feminine one didn't affect his Soulmark. So the costant burning never left him.  
Many night he fell asleep caressing with reverence his mark at first, then all his body. Slowly, lustfully, missing the usual form the angel sported. Imagining other hands on top of his and kind words whispered in his ear that would have cleanse every spot on his soul, if he only still had one.

In the rare occasions they met, Aziraphale started calling him “my dear”. How sweet those words sounded.  
Crowley often wondered, with a shiver down his spine, how many different variations could two simple words have.

“My dear, you, and the young master look stunning today.”  
“Have a pleasant evening, my dear”

It was pain and pleasure mixed on a constant agony.  
Please angel, say it like you mean it. For you are all I hold dear.

And with this swirling emotions, the tutoring years of Warlock passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thanks to all of you. You are boosting me up. I hope I don't let you down.


	12. Intermission - Always read the fine print

Crowley's Soulmark was a book. A very nice one, with some mocking print on its pages, and all that ever changing sparkles.  
Crowley himself was not a big fan of reading, and used to say he never read a book. Dreadful things they were, specially if you carried one with you at all times and must try not to think about it.  
It was a pity he didn't stand to look closely at his mark, afraid as he was it would make it known.

The game is not rigged, remember?  
And God herself had a sweet spot for that fallen archangel always with a doubt on his mind.

So if he only bothered to examine it with attention he would have noticed that the mocked words weren't so at all.  
They indeed stated :  
“ To you full of questions, a little gift from time yet to come to give you answers when you need them most.  
“The number of the Beast is in the Revelayting of Sainte John, call hym in Taddesfield. And ye will know hym by this sign, that when ye do call hym, the Lesser Beaste will walk upon his hind legs like unto a Dancing Bear.”  
And “When alle is fayed and all is done, ye must choose your faces wisely, for soon enough ye will be playing with fyre.”.  
Remember to be kind to each other and read from time to time.  
And to you, my beloved Aziraphale, I say please don't hurt him too much.”  
When, in a distant future, someone will finally read them, there will be Hell to pay.


	13. Finding new emotions

Gardening was a big let down, with all that dirt involved, and Warlock didn't spend as much time in the fresh air as it should.  
Aziraphale wondered if maybe wouldn't have been better choose to be a cook. His only prayer this day was for all this to be enough to avert the war and save his dear demon.  
Without almost realizing, he started to call Crowley “my dear”. Well, it was only polite to address him when meeting the nanny, after all, and “you fiend” was out of question, as well as “you demon”. He didn't like the name his friend chose for this work, and it would be unused quite fast. Nor he liked the feminine form he sported, because he ( or would be better she? ) didn't seem confortable with that body.  
Aziraphale cherished every small encounter nonetheless.  
“My dear, Brother Sun is quite hot today. May I suggest for you to find respite under Sister Oak?”  
My friend, my love, I know you must always feel so cold, but I pray to you, let me be the one providing the warmth you seek.  
The remaining years were not enough. He needed time. All was so fast and so unbearably slow.  
Aziraphale felt frustrated, being so near to Crowley without their idle chats. If all came to worse, Armageddon will start and they could never chat again. Only the fight will remain, and the angel knew he couldn't harm anyone. Not even for the angels to win. Not even for the Great Plan. He would seek his mate on the battleground and try to stop him without luck.  
The Soulmark was a promise. It was the blessing of the Almighty to protect the demon, to love him, to hold him and whisper all the poetry ever written to his ear.  
Some nights, ever vigilant, the angel roamed the manor, stopping in front of Crowley's door. With his forehead almost touching the wood, like absorbed on a prayer, hand hoovering over the handle, he would whisper blessings and promises for a future that couldn't be. Aziraphale knew thet he couldn't enter, nor was welcome to, but knowing that his dear demon was asleep inside gave him solace. Silently, he will then retreat to his room, to lay on the bed ( it needed to seem used, after all ), and remembered all the time spent together.  
Warlock grew, as expected, fast and soon a nanny wasn't needed any more.  
He too left the gardens.  
Both found a new routine, made of drinks, dinners and tutoring the growing Antichrist.  
If all this wouldn't be enough, Aziraphale mused, at least She blessed him with some more time to fill his emptiness with Crowley's laughs.  
But even that started to feel too little.


	14. We're in the endgame

Fuck.  
Wrong boy.  
And he even tried tempting Aziraphale into killing this one.  
Crowley was devastated. Now for sure the angel would despise him. He would think it was a complicated ruse to make him fall. Would never speak to him again.  
Now his plan to protect his Soulmate was a failure. One kid, just one, how hard can it be to concentrate on one thing instead of hundreds?

But his angel, instead of tossing him out, his sweet angel got drunk with him. 

Then, a feeling in the air. The hellhound had found his master and had been named.

It had started.

Resigned, he did go back to his apartment to take some of his stress out on his plants.  
Unable to rest, Crowley paced thorough the halls. He had to tell him. The demon picked up the receiver only to slam it down again angrily. Why waste the limited time he had with Aziraphale being snubbed? He suspected that the angel felt love for him, as much as he loved a bug. Because “all that's created deserve love”. Bollocks. Utterly bullshit.  
He tried watching something , but Hastur hijacked the program. The four horsemen were in motion. No easy way out.  
Well, it was time for gardening. He was downright furious.  
Keep him close. Keep him secret. Keep him safe.  
Find the right kid and stop this, fuck Hell and their big plan for revenge. And then tell Aziraphale. Maybe.  
He had only one problem: how to find a single human?  
But his friend had a brilliant intuition.   
He should tell him how much he loved his brain.


	15. Blooming hope

What a let down. Somehow they managed to lose the Antichrist.   
Worse was Sandalphon almost catching on Crowley's smell. Gabriel seemed a bit too happy for Armageddon to start, and all Aziraphale could feel was a dreadful clinch at his stomach.   
Hold him, tell him before all this starts.   
Crowley sounded so distressed over the phone after delivering the baby. Crowley. Who had a short attention span if something wasn't of his liking. Maybe the exchange went wrong.   
Riding through London it dawned on him. Books. Records. They could still find him. Perhaps not all was lost.   
Upon arriving in front of the hospital, the cold who had enveloped him since when he saw the Bentley melt. A new kind of warmth was blooming into him. Love. Not the one from the Almighty, but one made of sweets and hot cocoa. It was strange that Crowley didn't feel anything different. Crowley who was… Hit?   
Thank you, it was only paint. But his coat was hit too. It was his favorite one. A smudge, just over his Soulmark.   
"You could always miracle it away."   
Tell him. While you have time.   
"But I will still know it's there. Underneath."   
Tell him. While you still feel all this love. While you still feel safe.   
Crowley removed the superficial mark with a grin, but the one on his skin burned reacting to the one he needed most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've finished writing it. As supposed, the last chapters will have a different structure than the others. I hope you will enjoy all of this story.


	16. Intermission - A warm bath is a miracle on his own

Still brushing Her hair, God re-entered the room.  
A long and luxurious bath had restored Her good inclination, and checking the progress of the game while bathing almost made Her lose track of time.  
She hide a smile while observing Aziraphale and Crowley dance around each other. As She suspected, Crowley hadn't bothered to read.  
The rest of the table progressed quite nicely, if you overlooked some major screw ups from all the three factions involved.  
Nobody ever listened.  
Humans kept going around searching answers without having the right questions.  
Demons, instead of rising the right doubts as was Her plan, resolved to petty wrongdoing.  
And Her Angels were so out of touch with all of it it was embarrassing.  
Really, the only ones following Her lineup were that rebellious archangel and the too kind principality.  
We're almost at Her turn, and She starts planning Her small action.  
How small will it be?  
Will the dice be good ones?  
She smiles, looking the three natural twentys in front of Her.  
Oh yes, this small action will work wonders.  
She left again to pick how to dress, the Universe is full of bodies to choose from.


	17. Wilting hope

His angel was marvellous. He always find some solution. When Aziraphale suggested to check the hospital, Crowley nearly kissed him senseless.  
Exiting the car, the angel asked if he could feel that sensation of love.  
“Nothing”  
How could he answer with the truth? “Aziraphale, near you I cant fell any love but the what I have for you.” . Sure, that will go down well. And... Fuck, a shot. Protect the angel.  
Luckily it was only paint, so he scared the human instead of having his life for trying to hurt his love.  
Now, his soulmate was unhappy . And how could Crowley pass the opportunity to make him smile? So fussy, so desirable.  
“But I would always know the stain was there. Underneath. “  
My sweet angel, Crowley's smile said, let me take care of you. Aziraphale's joy filled his love more.  
With a renewed spring on the demon steps, they resumed the search for informations. Crowley then had the most fantastic idea: since his angel wasn't so against the guns, what better way to win the little argument than giving this raging humans real ones? The grimace and the indignation on Aziraphale's face were priceless. With all those delicious moments, the day was becoming better by the minute.  
“I always said , deep down, you were a nic..”  
Don't say it. Not while the holy water is so far. Don't put me on the spot with you here.  
With a growl, he slammed his mate against the wall.  
“Don't say it”  
So close, the angel smelled like vanilla, old books, apples and temptation. The world was about to end, and his collection was screaming for a masterpiece to be complete.  
If I kiss him now, I could always rub it off as a demonstration of being not nice.  
I must kiss him.  
If I kiss him now, he could fall. He could end me. I couldn't protect him anymore.  
I must not kiss him.  
But having Aziraphale pinned under him, his entrancing fragrance calling for him, the lips just parted like waiting him. What a way to go.  
That woman broke the moment. Her only fortune were being the nun he gave the kid to, and that Crowley would never rip through her in front of Aziraphale. But she held no information whatsoever.  
No clues, no kiss, and the angel kept babbling about feeling of love. On top of this disaster, some strange girl dared to hit his Bentley. Obviously he had to stop and check that crazy human, else Aziraphale would have frown. There was too little time left in the eternity to watch his love frown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments and kudos are giving me the fuzzies. And I need them, because the new story is going to take me on dark places...


	18. The Answer

Aziraphale was right. Crowley reckless driving hit someone. At least he was kind (another four letter word) and stopped to help the young lady.  
The idea of using humans to search for the missing Antichrist felt like a good one too. It was worth keeping in touch with that witchfinder.  
Getting off the Bentley, Aziraphale noted something really unusual. A book. In Crowley's car.  
He should find a way to give it back to the … Wait.  
It's no ordinary book.  
All around him stopped for a moment. “The Nice And Accurate Prophecies”.  
The angel retreated swiftly, leaving his friend wondering why was he all off the sudden so anxious.

He hear of this book for ages, and he was so eager to read it.  
On a little ritual of his own, he made a cocoa and then proceeded to cleanse his desk. If this book was nothing like the voices said, he could still save Crowley.  
To understand the angel fascination with this particular publication, you must first know something about the angel himself. Aziraphale always knew when a prophet would be around, and enjoyed to try and make sense of what the future will be. He had first edition signed copies of every prophecy tome. But he didn't knew of Agnes Nutter until her explosion.  
And now, when he needed it most, he found the one and only book of prophecies rumoured to be always right.  
A blessing from God on stopping this abomination, he thinks .  
Aziraphale tried a random one and its was shockingly adherent to reality.  
I can do it.  
I can stop this.  
I can save Crowley without putting him on touble.  
He read all night and most of the day, until one particular verse struck him.  
It's too simple. Cannot be. It won't work.  
But the prophecy was indeed nice and accurate.  
He found the boy.


	19. About time

Now we have all our pieces nicely placed on the board.  
We have God choosing the right outfit. That could take some time, but She's happy, since the game is not digressing so much from her carefully planned plot line.  
We have humans, stumbling about with their Soulmark, searching for their match and having fun on the meantime.  
We have the demons, who are preparing for the greatest battle on the foreseeable future.  
And so are the angels.  
We have Hastur, about to discover where everything went wrong.  
Not so far, we see Gabriel, eager for another war, worried about Aziraphale trying to stop his fun.  
The four horseman are almost in position, as is the Antichrist, even if he is not quite where the others believe.  
Aziraphale with his mark, choosing what to do next on times too fast for him, but adamant on protecting his beloved from harm.   
Crowley... where did we left him?

There he is, outside Aziraphale's shop, baffled by the abrupt change in his destined demanor.  
He was so full of questions with no answers, but he had manly two: “How do I find that boy?” and “How can I keep Aziraphale safe?”.  
Too bad he doesn't read.

After much fidgeting and moving the same piece his friend was about to move, he resolved to try and tell Aziraphale his secret.  
Keep him safe.  
Take him away from here.

But the encounter didn't go as planned.  
“It's the Great Plan, Crowley”  
He express his admiration for the blasted plan at length.  
“May you be forgiven”  
Oh angel, you really dont understand. I would never be forgiven if something happens to you.  
“I'm a great deal holyer than thou, that's the whole point.”  
His love started to get sour.  
I know I can never hope and reach for you. I'm a fool. I've let my silly and desperate love blind me. Aziraphale doesn't care for me. This demonic angel is using me to have his fucking happy ending, with me out of the way.  
“That's it, I'm leaving.”  
No point on staying.  
“It's a big Universe.”  
Give it a last try.  
“We can go off together.”  
Take my offer, let me save you.  
“Friends? We're not friends.”  
No, we can be so much more.  
“I don't even like you”  
The pain of falling was nothing by comparison.   
Keep it cool, it will hurt less.  
“You do.”  
Keep it burning.  
“We're on our side”  
“There is no “our side” Crowley, not anymore. It's over.”  
Feigning nonchalance, Crowley left.  
“Have a nice doomsday”

Back on his lair, our demon started his search for a safe place.  
Using his only book, a rare gift from that traitor angel, he pondered.  
His nebula? Nice, but too Aziraphale-less.  
Gallifrey? Too displaced on space and time to bother.  
Alpha Centauri? Nice weather, but not so sure.  
Why was God wiping all away?  
Why was She determined to destroy all he hold dear?  
Didn't the Almighty punish the humans at length already?  
Didn't She punish him enough?  
“Show me you plan!”, he dared, screaming the pain from the rejection he just endured.  
He took his despair to the movies, and oh look, Hastur somehow catch up on his little error. It took him long enough. Now it was all definitely pear shaped. Maybe they already knew about Aziraphale. Even with the rejection still ringing on his ears, he would not allow for them to hurt what was his.  
Crowley roamed the city searching the angel. He even said he was sorry.  
Please, come with me.  
And he was cast aside again.  
“I won't even think about you”  
That was the biggest lie he ever said.  
And now, the last memory he would have of his love was full of pity and sadness.  
No time now to think about that. Plan.  
He was still determined to try and save that stubborn angel, so plan A, with the Apocalypse coming, was out of question. Escaping alone, he could ever do that.  
Slow his brethren. Gain back a last hopeful smile.  
He had to set a trap.  
When they were to the door, he could sense them before they speak.  
Crowley would have preferred Hastur taking the lead, since Ligur, in his opinion , was easier to manipulate. But hearing Hastur screaming hysterically was a nice touch.  
An idea. Any idea.  
Right then, Aziraphale called.  
Now Hastur knew for sure.  
But the phone... that could work.  
He then ran to the shop, just to find it engulfed in flames.


	20. Hold your ground

We know how Crowley's day went. And Aziraphale's?  
Last time we checked on him, he had just found where really Adam Young, our true and only Antichrist, was.  
He then set things in motion with Shadwell and tried to talk to Gabriel about it.  
But it was by now evident nobody wanted this abomination to stop.  
He needed to keep Crowley safe so, when they met at the bandstand, he didn't disclose his informations. It was fortunate that the demon left him and out with the question, since Aziraphale would never tell an outright lie. He was just quite competent with half truth.  
The rage boiling into his soulmate permeated the air.  
“May you be forgiven”  
My love, run away. Save yourself.  
But the despair in him took out of his mouth the worst possible words.  
“I'm a great deal holyer then thou, that's the whole point.”  
The hurt clear on Crowley's face made him pain more.  
“That's it. I'm leaving.”  
Yes, go far from all this madness. Leave me with my loneliness.  
“We can go off together”  
Oh no, we can't. I'm an angel, and I have to follow my orders. I can't come with you.  
“Friends?We're not friends.”  
Tell him now. You are my soulmate. Take the risk.  
But then maybe he will stay. I need him to go.  
“I don't even like you”  
Half truth, you see? I don't like you. I love you. I need you safe while this mess clears up.  
“You do”  
The temptation of running to him and close his lips with a kiss was too strong. The angel was in compete pain.  
“We're on our side”  
Take that fruit dangling in front of you.  
“There is no “our side” anymore, Crowley. It's over.”  
The despair flared inside Aziraphale.  
Stay away please, stay away from all this disaster. If I found a way out of it, I will find you. I know I will.  
“Have a nice doomsday”  
It took all the angel's strengths not to kneel and cry from the hurt. He felt hollow.  
That's enough, he was going to complain to a higher authority.  
When Gabriel dismissed him once again, Aziraphale made his way back to the shop in a daze.  
He and Crowley were the only one to care.  
The appearance of the Bentley startled him.  
“Please angel, I'm apologizing, ok? Get in the car.”  
No. He will stop this.  
Earth was were he had so many memories shared with his dear demon. And if Hell was on Crowley's heels, someone better try and stop them. Keep it safe.  
“I forgive you.”  
Run, left me here. I will guard your retreat.  
“I won't even think about you.”  
The pain found her way to Aziraphale's eyes, but he didn't try to stop his love from reaching a safer place. He knew, he always knew that Crowley would not reciprocate him.  
And now, he was left in the middle of a street, fantasizing about all the times they were near. Specially the one from yesterday, when he was so close to Crowley it would have been easy to kiss him. To taste yet another flavour, the one he always longed to know, the one he chased with every new dish but could never found. He would never feel the velvety lips of his demon on the skin, he will never...  
Michael abruptly stopped his train of thought, but he was saved by Armageddon starting, missing to be saved once again by his dear.  
He ran to the bookshop and flared the circle. He needed to speak with God.

As we remember, the Almighty was occupied choosing dresses, so Her Metatron voice mail took over. He worked still on old instruction (who as time to update the drivers every millennium) and called the angel to battle. When She realized who was calling, it was too late.  
Aziraphale already called Crowley and has been discorporated.   
Smiling at the swear word, She decided to give him a little gift. She took over Aziraphale note, and added a pinch of resolve. Not an action at all, just a reward for a job well done.

So Aziraphale, on his incorporeal form, met the Quartermaster and stood his ground against direct orders. He could still feel the pull of his Soulmark, stronger than ever on this ethereal form.  
He will preserve Earth, save Crowley, find him, take him back and spend all eternity drinking with him.  
“You cannot posses a body.”  
Heavens yes. For his soulmate, he could do that and more.


	21. Final preparations

Crowley entered the burning shop. He had to find Aziraphale and warn him, but his angel was nowhere to be sensed.  
Bastards, the lot of them.  
His rage burned fiercely than the books, one of which was strangely almost intact. Aziraphale loved his books. He took the lone survivor as a reminder of his lost love.  
With resolve, he left the building. He will wait for the war to start and take down as many as he could. Maybe he will start with his ex buddy Gabriel, just to punish him for all the discomfort his rude notes created to his best friend. He would never say out loud that Aziraphale was way more than that. His temptation. His love. His dream. His salvation. His soulmate.  
He needed to drink, to fuel his rage and kill some time while waiting for the final stand to start and kill something for real.  
Maybe this time he really did drank too much, since he was hallucinating his mate.

“Did you go to Alpha Centauri?”  
Aziraphale's incorporeal form had homed into Crowley, his soulmate all he could think about.  
“No. Something happened. Somebody killed my best friend.”  
Oh, that won't do. Ignoring the pain for not being Crowley's best anything, the angel decided to keep him near, and that silly demon took exactly the right book as souvenir, how fortuitous.  
The only thing missing now was a body. It was a pity he couldn't inhabit Crowley's, sating him desire to be one with him. Do not dwell on those fantasies. Find a body.

It took Crowley some moments to realize he was not day dreaming and the angel was still existent. When Aziraphale told him he had all figured out, he did understood it was not his imagination taunting him. He could still have time. The carnage he was going to release on Heavens and Hells will have to wait.

Aziraphale did found a suitable body, conveniently near that Shadwell. “It's still not an action” crossed his mind, but he dismissed it. With a little convincing and a not so little miracle, they departed to Taddesfield Air Base to thwart any plan, hellish, great or even ineffable, who could separate him from Crowley again.


	22. Checkmate

Crowley's travel to the airbase was not uneventful.  
He did receive a visit from Hastur, discorporated him through fire (not hellfire, that would have be like a trip to the Spa. Which Hastur, in Crowley's opinion, would have great use for.), and was currently using all his imagination and will power, fuelled with the though of Aziraphale, to keep himself and, with some added intimidation, his Bentley, the second most important being on the Universe, from combusting.

Thanks to his miracle, Aziraphale arrived first and was currently faced with a ridiculous army men trying to stop him. Then he heard a engine.  
The Bentley looked exactly as his Soulmark, and Crowley getting off it was far more resplendent than any angel he had ever seen.  
This was destined to happen.  
The angel felt relief overcoming his icy loneliness. Crowley was there, and nothing will stop the principality from try and keep him safe. It was hard to remember to breath.  
“So is that one your soulmate?” , said Madam Tracy on his mind,”Kinda nice, would gladly take him for a ride. I don't mind.”  
Mine, was all Aziraphale could think.  
But first, they had still to go past this soldier and stop this nonsense.  
“This young men won't let us in.”  
“Leave it to me”  
The low growl on Crowley's voice made his heart skip a beat.

Crowley recognized Aziraphale instantly. His car did a great job, his angel was near and he felt unstoppable.  
“Leave it to me”  
The angel essence flared happiness, and for feeling that again the demon would gladly destroy Satan himself.  
He approached the soldier, but a bunch of kids ruined the lovely speech he was preparing. While recovering from the interruption, an explosion called his attention. His prized possession, gone forever. This could end badly. Not even Aziraphale's pleas for help managed to snap him out of his grief.

That stupid demon was grieving. For a car. And the human was really obnoxious. It would not do.  
Aziraphale miracled him away, without giving much thought to the destination until later.  
Other soldiers were already approaching and their time, all the time, was running out. Luckily Crowley composed himself and took care of the lot, even if he was still so in shock he said “Heavens”unconsciously.  
In the car the demon expropriated, they reach the kids. And Shadwell wont take the shot.  
Aziraphale had had enough. He was going to end it, and then proceed to dine with Crowley for all eternity. When he took the contraption, Madam Tracy made him miss.  
He failed.  
Thing is, Adam Young was not what he expected.  
Instead of destroying the lot of them, ha calmly stand with those other kids and gave the angel his body back.  
Maybe not all was lost. It did go as they planned: the Antichrist too wanted to stop Armageddon.  
The four horseman were not happy with this line of reasoning, and War tried to intimidate them with her sword, who felt strangely familiar to Crowley and Aziraphale.  
The angel and the demon stand, and watched while humanity saved herself.  
The belief of simple human kids, channelled by a unexpectedly lovely Antichrist, exorcised the most ancients of fears.  
That sword...  
“Didn't it used to be your sword?”  
On hindsight, giving it away had not being a brilliant idea .

Somehow, all stopped.

Death dismissed himself, giving all the presents a glimpse of what the Creation is.  
Aziraphale was relieved, but Crowley knew better than that. He remembered the eagerness of angels for war, and had seen how much the demons wanted revenge.  
Out of nowhere, the book lady came into sight. Well, who's keeping scores anymore? Crowley throw her back the remains of the book, but a small fragment flew out, finishing easily in Aziraphale's hands.  
“What's going on up here?”  
The angel started to tell the story from the very beginning, but Crowley shushed him. It was not over. He still needed to protect his mate.  
With a thunder, Gabriel appeared, shortly followed by Beelzebub. They wanted their war, and were ready to compel the young boy to restart the end of this world. Temptation did not work, neither keeping mentioning the Great Plan.  
It dawned on Aziraphale.  
His Soulmark was the Bentley engulfed in flames. He and Crowley were meant to be there, and so they have to be meant to stop the plan. The... ineffable plan? Or the Great one? Where they one and the same?  
“The Great Plan! It is written...”  
Crowley catch up. He could still do something. The ineffable plan was, by definition, ineffable. How could be written?  
“You don't know!”  
They were baffled.  
It never occur to Gabriel or Beelzebub that being the Antichrist partially human he had a free will.  
Gabriel never questioned the two plans being the same, but now he couldn't be certain. And he will never go against God's will.  
“Well, at least we know whose fault it is... Young man... I hope someone tells your father.”  
“Oh, they will.”  
Crowley felt himself pulled down as Satan stirred to came and punish his son.  
All this was for nothing. He took Aziraphale to his demise.  
“Right. That was that. It was nice knowing you.”  
I love you, I'm so sorry.  
But the resolve on Aziraphale keep him going.  
“We can't give up now.”  
The angel took up his long lost sword.  
“Come up with something or...”  
He poised himself as to strike Crowley down.  
What to do to fuel his friend imagination? What was the worst thing in the world?  
“... or I'll never talk to you again.”  
That did it. The thought of his soulmate not speaking with him for all eternity, paired with the still fresh desperation from the bookshop fire, gave Crowley a last mad idea.  
It could word.  
It must work.  
Calling all his powers, the demon stopped the Universe. Back in Heavens had been simple to do, when he needed to check exactly the stars positions. So, he did it again, and took Aziraphale and Adam on a celestial pocket dimension he never dreamt of see again. Up on the cloud, Aziraphale seemed so satisfied. 

They had but moments before all this will collapse. The principality found the right words to make Adam understand, and the fallen archangel shared his crazy plan.  
“Whatever happen, for good or for evil, we're beside you.”  
They took Adam's hands to give him courage, and when time restarted the kid was ready. And he did it magnificently. He thwarted Apocalypse, resisted Hells and Heavens, defied Satan and found his place a human.  
Both celestial beings were relieved, but they knew it wont be the end of the story for them.  
They tiptoed around each other, starting anew their timeless dance while waiting for someone to take back the horseman's symbols.  
One last prophecy had to became true.  
Crowley tried to convince his angel to spend the night together, not willing to lose him again, but found himself once again rebuffed.  
They took the bus, and a plan hatched.


	23. Fulfilling prophecies

As Agnes said, they had to choose they faces wisely. Both wanted to keep the other safe, and switched bodies thinking, both of them, that their Soulmark will follow.  
It was only later, Aziraphale in Crowley's apartment and Crowley at the Savoy, that they realized it wasn't the case.  
But let us take a closer look.

Aziraphale, with Crowley's body, roamed the apartment searching for the bathroom. He felt exhausted, and was in dire need of a warm bath. And maybe, just maybe, wanted to know how Crowley's vessel was first hand.  
He disrobes quietly, taking glances he never hoped he could have. He knew his friend so well, he could walk, talk and even sound like him. Removing the undergarments, he saw it. He knew his soulmate to the bone, but a Soulmark wasn't something he expected to see. A book.  
Aziraphale felt embarrass for snooping on something so personal, nonetheless he took another look. The mark was beautiful, and whomever it pointed out would be a lucky one. Keeping Crowley. What if...  
He tentatively traced the outline with a finger, and a jolt of pleasure reverberated to his spine and, miraculously, to his soul.  
It was him. It had to be him. All this time, and God's plan was them all along. Whispering blessings to the Almighty, he proceeded with the bath, taking good care of the body he was renting. If all will go according to the plan, they will have all eternity to talk about it.

Crowley was at the Savoy: his angel had standards, and he will keep them. He miracled away the dresses, too tired from the stunt pulled earlier to do it the human way. He was anxios about Aziraphale. What if they had the prophecy wrong?  
He stopped to check his soulmate body on a mirror with reverence, having waited a long time to take a proper look. The absence of his personal mark wasn't registered right away, since Crowley started testing the reactions of this corporeal form to the touch, wanting to know if his fantasies were right. It was then he passed a hand behind the shoulder. The sensation echoed through his conscience. He look at his back, and saw it: his Bentley on the skin of his beloved. No wonders then that Crowley himself loved that car with passion.  
Finally, he knew that Aziraphale was his to take.  
The demon decided to forego a night of sleep on favour of testing this body, just for research purposes, obviously. When finally he could put his proper hands on Aziraphale, he wanted for it to be perfect.

In the morning, Aziraphale did go to check on the bookshop, as was expected of him. Standing maybe an inch too tall, he examined the restored interior: it was perfect, with some new title courtesy of Adam.  
Crowley found his Bentley parked in her usual spot, shining proudly. With a grin, he called for a taxi to stop.

They met at St. James Park, as their usual, and exchanged words while taking something to nibble on, both waiting for the right time to express their discovery. Death stared at them, puzzled.  
They were abducted.

Somewhere else, God was flexing her hands, ready to have some fun.

The trial and execution of the demon Crowley was, on said demon opinion, a bore. When Michael poured the holy water, he remembered to shiver a bit.  
How to have some fun?  
He undressed. Not completely, of course, to preserve the precious Soulmark from the gaze of the other demons. Then, with a grin, he slipped into the bathtub.

Aziraphale didn't had a process. He disobeyed a direct order, and private Gabriel of his fun: as far as angels go, that was a big no-no. He tried to be polite even while stepping into the hellfire, but Gabriel acted like a brat. Well, he would never change. The angel stood into the fire without a second thought.

Down in Hell, Crowley was having the time of his life. The water was just divine, and he felt his energies replenish. Really, he should do this more often, if only his soulmate could be safe around it.  
Bored again, he asked the gaping demons for a rubber duck. Just then , Michael came to retrieve the water. What a nice idea.  
“Oi Michael, dude! Be a dear and use a small miracle, I need a towel.”  
Seeing his wish accomplished was exhilarating.  
He proceeded to inform them about his will to be left alone in the future.  
He couldn't wait to tell his love how fun it has been.

In the Heavens the situation wasn't so dissimilar.  
Aziraphale basked in the fire, feeling the soreness in his muscles vane. So cosy. And Gabriel grimaces made it fun. Maybe he could scare him just a little...

Both were released.

Gabriel, Beelzebub, Michael and Hastur met on a secure, for both part, location.  
The four of them wanted to devise a way to make Crowley and Aziraphale pay.  
While they were sitting and plotting, a fifth chair appeared. On it sat a … young girl?  
With long wavy auburn hairs, a puffy white tulle dress and a silver leather jacket, She sported the most mischievous of smiles.  
She leaned on the table, catching the attention of the conspirators. The angels startled, Beelzebub almost cowered and Hastur gave a scream, fire instinctively leaping from his fingers to the intruder. Said woman catches the ribbon of fire and plays with it between Her fingers.  
“What's up?”  
Nobody dared to speak.  
“In case you are wondering, it would be a really good idea leaving my two favourites alone for a very long time. They've earned it. Are we clear?”  
Slowly, head bowed all around the table. Even if you are a demon, sometimes obedience sound like a very smart idea.

On a bench, Aziraphale was sprawled while Crowley sat properly. Both were relieved on seing the other.  
“Switch back then.”  
Nobody should have watched, but a woman sat now between them.  
“Had fun?”  
Aziraphale suffocated a “Oh my”, and Crowley retreated as far as he could.  
She giggled.  
“What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?”  
Crowley was the first to react.  
“What all of this mean?”  
“Always so full of questions little one”, She sighs.  
“Just a visit to tell you both you did play very well. And I'm positive your ex-associated wont bother you for a quite long time”  
Her hands cupped Aziraphale's face.  
“Don't worry about the sword anymore, promise?”  
The angel was petrified.  
“Well, it was fun but I gotta go.”  
Abruptly as She came, She disappeared.

Back with Her notes, God was satisfied. The game was ready for something new. She opened a couple manuals, and started planning.

Back in the park, Aziraphale was still shocked. Crowley took advantege of the situation and leaned into him.  
“What did just happened?”  
“My money is that she got a nice roll and wanted a bit of fun.”  
“Crowley, how can you speak like that! Do you realize...”  
“Yes, angel, I do. She likes that body a lot. I may be older than time, but my memory still works.”  
“But how.. when... why?”  
Crowley caressed slowly over Aziraphale's mark.  
“Not important. The important thing now is me, you , a nice dinner and then a chat about your little secret, my love.”  
The words made the angel rejoice more than meeting God Herself.  
“As you wish, my dear.”  
He kissed his beautiful demon's cheek and get up.  
“I believe a table for two has miraculously open at the Ritz.”  
With a smile, Crowley took Aziraphale's hand and they walked together into the first day of the rest of their lives.


	24. After dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you didn't forget about Crowley's Soulmark, I hope.

Dining at the Ritz has been wonderful, for Aziraphale. The food was exquisite, the company all he could ask for. They chat and drank, without ever talking about their Soulmarks.

But when they retreated to Aziraphale's shop, Crowley slammed his beloved against the wall and forcefully kissed him. In his ear, he asked “Too fast?” while roaming his body with greedy hands.  
It felt all so perfect.  
“No my dear.”  
Crowley stopped and released him. The angel seemed perplexed, and the demon continued.  
“Are you sure? Tonight is about us, about you. I've waited centuries for this, and we will do whatever you like, ever reading a book. Anything you ask for.”  
Reading a book? Why could he ever read a book with his sinful soulmate within his reach? An idea crossed his mind.  
With a grin, he miracled away the dresses from Crowley.  
“Well, thank you for the wonderful idea my dear. I think there's an antique book I just put my hands on and I would really like to read it.”  
“Are you serious?”  
Ogling Crowley's body, he wetted his lips.  
“My love, you should know by now that I cant resist any book.”  
He guided his friend against the wall.  
“Now stand still.”  
“Angel, it would be only jumbled letters to mock writing.”  
“Have you ever really checked?”  
Aziraphale kneeled and concentrated on the Soulmark, trying to ignore the rest of the delightful body presented in front of him.  
It seemed gibberish but... wait.

Crowley was watching Aziraphale nested near his hip, and found hard to stand still. He felt burning, and a hand found his way to the locks on his soulmate head. He loved seeing Aziraphale so lost on his thoughts. A second later the angel froze.

“Crowley, my dear, those are not random letters. It never occurred to you to actually try and have a look?”  
“Naaaa, it would have been difficult. And then again, reading. Not really my thing, you know.”  
Holding himself, Aziraphale counted under his breath.  
“Care to know what they say?”  
“If you like, my angel”  
“Oh, I would like it very much.”

Fucked. He was going to be so fucked. Even losing the Antichrist didn't scare him so. Sheer terror paralysed him.  
“So...”  
Aziraphale rose.  
“How in Heavens it never occurred to you to simply read that book! You should know better than anyone to read the fine prints, you invented them!”  
The angel was furious, wings and all, glaring to a still undressed Crowley.  
“Angel, if only I...”  
“Don't try and go “If only” at me. Do you realize that YOU HAD THE ANSWERS ALL ALONG?”  
Aziraphale radiated divine fury. There was only one way out.  
“Aziraphale, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Can you forgive me once more, my beautiful angel?”  
The principality deflated.  
“Sure, I'll forgive you. But now, I suppose some kind of penance will be in order.”, he huffed.  
“What?”  
“Yes. You are to be left at my desires for the foreseeable future.”  
And that, for Crowley, was Heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for keeping up with this little fiction. Your kudos and comments kept me going.  
> I would like to thank specially Madlenita, who continued thanking me for the work, and Ashenaiulyk , for the lovely comments.  
> My new work, as I said, is darker, and will take more time to perfect.  
> It was lovely being read by you all.  
> Have nice roll all of you.


End file.
